On my way out of the art store yesterday, I saw it, the “Color of the Year.” And the first thing I wondered is, (I’ve always wondered) who decides?
We were asked on the playground. In the classroom. By adults. Our friends. It was one of the most frequent and popular questions — “What’s your favorite color?” I suppose people thought it was such an easy question. No thought or controversy. Just simple. And I listened to them pull the answers out of the their holster so quickly, with such fluidity, such ease – Blue! Red! Orange! Bang!
Why couldn’t I do that? Why did I have to give it so much thought. Why, at even five or six did I struggle? Who could pick I thought? All the colors – they had so much importance! Yellow for when I needed cheering. Blue for calm. Green was a longing for bare toes in the grass. Tans for the gravel that led me home. No one wanted to hear that. The thoughts raced through my brain — just shoot, I thought, pull the trigger – just say blue! But I couldn’t. I loved them all too much. So I began explaining to the blank faces, the eye rolls, the far off stares, the backs walking away.
And maybe I wouldn’t have had the courage, but for Grandpa Rueben. He listened. He looked directly at me. And if he were to walk away, his hand always extended back. He knew. He told me, often. You decide. Whatever the situation, he repeated it — “You decide.”
The world has always tried to direct, but now more than ever, we are bombarded by “influence.” (My apologies to Dominique, he hates the word.) And I’m still wondering, why on earth do we need it? Why do we need someone to tell us our favorite color. Moreover, why do we even need a favorite? We get to decide. Daily. We get to grow and change and love what we love, who we love, when we love. Neither my heart, nor my palette can be boxed in.
You can choose Mocha Mousse for your favorite color this year, if that’s what it actually is — if you love it, really love it — but remember, you get to decide! And you get to change your mind. You get to be you! Bang!
